


Situation Normal (All F*cked Up)

by enigmaticblue



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 22:17:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All of Coulson’s files relating to the Avengers are filed under the general heading: Situation Normal: All Fucked Up. The current situation is a prime example of why that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Situation Normal (All F*cked Up)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the hc_bingo prompt "caught in a robbery"

Bruce takes a deep breath, smelling the scent of freshly baked bread as he passes the bakery located a few blocks from the Tower. He’d used the excuse of running out of tea to get out of the lab, even though Jarvis would have ordered whatever he wanted delivered.

 

When Tony leaves the Tower, it’s almost always in the suit or a fast car, but Bruce generally prefers a slower pace, especially when he wants to think. He’s got a few equations that are troubling him, and sometimes he needs space and time to work through a problem.

 

Plus, he likes feeling the warm sunshine on the back of his neck.

 

When he enters the bodega he knows carries his brand of tea, Bruce wanders down the aisles, picking up a couple of other things, like a jar of his favorite brand of curry paste, and a bag of apples.

 

Bruce brings his purchases to the front and offers the young clerk a smile. “How are you today, Melissa?”

 

“Great,” she replies, her cheeks dimpling as she smiles. “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you, Dr. Banner.”

 

Bruce shrugs. “I’ve been busy lately. How’s your dad?”

 

“Good.” Melissa grins. “Well, he’s not happy that I’m not married yet, but I keep telling him that I’m waiting for the right guy.”

 

Bruce smiles in response, recognizing light, harmless flirting when he sees it. “And he’ll be a very lucky guy when you find him.”

 

Melissa laughs. “I hope you’ll tell my dad as much.”

 

“The very next time I see him,” Bruce promises.

 

The bell over the front door jangles, and Bruce glances over his shoulder reflexively, seeing two young men enter.

 

Bruce is old enough at this point that everyone looks young, but these two boys look no older than eighteen, and they pull ski masks over their faces—one black, one dark blue—as soon as they step inside, brandishing weapons.

 

“Get down!” Black Mask shouts waving a handgun. “I want all the money in the register.”

 

Bruce raises his hands, hoping to look as unthreatening as possible, and trying to keep his heart rate and breathing under control. He can’t risk the collateral damage that losing it will mean.

 

“Yes, I’ll give you the money,” Melissa replies, her voice shaking. “Whatever you want, I just, I have to—”

 

“Now!” Blue Mask yells.

 

Bruce risks a glance at her and sees her hands shaking as she tries to work the register. She punches the wrong buttons once and has to start over, causing Black Mask to wave his weapon vigorously. “Open it!” he orders, getting in her face.

 

Bruce considers whether it’s worth it to let the Other Guy loose now, since it’s even odds as to whether the Other Guy will consider collateral damage when he smashes. Then again, the surprise of the Other Guy showing up might divert their interest.

 

He’s still debating it when Blue Mask’s gun goes off, hitting Melissa in the shoulder. Bruce is around the counter in a moment, pressing his hands against her wound. “It’s going to be okay,” he promises.

 

“Get away from her!” Black Mask yells.

 

“I’m a doctor,” Bruce snaps, unable to keep his temper completely in check. “Do whatever you want. Break into the cash register; I won’t stop you. But it’s going to be a lot worse for you if she dies.”

 

The gun wavers, which Bruce takes as a good sign, and he turns back to Melissa. “You’re going to be fine,” he says again. “Just hang in there.”

 

She nods, tears streaming down her cheeks, and Bruce pulls his t-shirt off over his head, wadding it up and pressing it tightly against her shoulder. He figures he’s going to ruin the shirt one way or another, and right now, he’s pretty sure the Other Guy’s going to make an appearance.

 

Black Mask pounds on the register, finally forcing it open, and begins to shove the cash into his pockets. Bruce watches the robbers out of the corner of his eye, but focuses most of his attention on Melissa, taking her hand and pressing it against the shirt.

 

“I need you to keep pressure on this,” Bruce instructs. “Real tight, okay?”

 

Alarm enters her eyes. “Dr. Banner—”

 

“I just need you to stay alert,” he assures her. “Stay with me, sweetheart.”

 

Melissa presses her hand against the wadded up t-shirt and winces, and Bruce puts his hand over hers.

 

“Just leave them!” Black Mask shouts, causing Bruce to glance up. “Let’s go!”

 

“We can’t leave witnesses,” Blue Mask protests, and levels his gun at Bruce.

 

Bruce covers Melissa’s body with his own out of reflex. “Whatever happens, don’t move,” he orders. “And don’t be scared.”

 

Melissa’s eyes widen, and Bruce hears the shot, but he doesn’t feel the impact. He’s gone by then, and the Other Guy has taken over.

 

~~~~~

 

Phil Coulson believes in the Avengers Initiative 100-percent. Hell, he’d believed in it so much that he’d died for it—for five minutes, but the principle remains.

 

Still, Coulson would be the first to admit that when the Avengers are called in, it _always_ means millions of dollars in property damage. And it’s even worse when the Hulk makes an unexpected appearance.

 

Well, none of them are much better, really. Rogers hasn’t had enough time in this century to get into serious trouble, but Stark and Thor are quite capable of causing mayhem—as are Agents Romanoff and Barton, although they usually do so on SHIELD’s behalf.

 

The truth is, Coulson likes each of them on an individual basis—even Stark, even if he’d never admit it out loud—but all of his files relating to the Avengers are filed under the general heading: Situation Normal: All Fucked Up.

 

The current situation is a prime example of why that is.

 

There’s not much left standing in the corner store where Banner had apparently been buying tea, curry paste, and apples. The two robbers may still be in traction by the time they’re released from prison, but the cashier is going to make it, in no small part because Banner had offered first aid. The Hulk hadn’t so much as touched her, in spite of the destruction he’d caused elsewhere.

 

But Coulson has no idea where Banner is, so he calls the one guy who might have a shot of talking the Hulk down.

 

When he gets the voicemail, Coulson punches in the override code to get past Stark’s security. The phone rings again, and Stark says, “You’ve reached the answering service of Tony Stark. Leave—”

 

“It’s about Banner,” Coulson says, interrupting.

 

Stark stops abruptly. “What are you talking about? Bruce is—Jarvis, where’s Bruce?”

 

Coulson hears muffled voices, and then Stark demands, “Where is he?”

 

Banner’s current location isn’t going to mean much without context, so he says, “There was a robbery at the bodega where Banner was buying tea. One of the robbers shot the clerk and then tried to shoot Banner.”

 

Stark snorts. “I’ll bet _that_ went over well.”

 

“We’ve tracked the Hulk to Central Park,” Coulson continues. “SHIELD’s clearing out all the civilians, but we need you to talk the big guy down.”

 

Coulson can _hear_ Stark’s smirk. “The Hulk _does_ love me best. I’ve got it handled. He didn’t kill anybody, did he?”

 

“The two robbers are going to make it, but they may not walk again. Banner saved the cashier’s life with his quick thinking, though,” Coulson says.

 

“Good to know, and that will help,” Stark replies. “I’m on my way out now.”

 

Coulson stops the stretcher carrying the cashier as the paramedics pass him. “One of our agents will be in touch, Miss Vahdat.”

 

“Tell Dr. Banner that I’m fine,” she says urgently. “Please. He was wonderful.”

 

“Did you see him—turn green?” Coulson asks delicately.

 

Vahdat gives him a shaky smile. “I did, but—he saved my life, you know? I don’t care. He took a bullet for me.” She’s clearly near tears, and the paramedic gives him a significant look.

 

“I’ll make sure he knows that’s what he did, Miss Vahdat,” Coulson assures her, then motions for the paramedics to leave.

 

In the meantime, he has to clean up the scene, and ensure that the blame lands in the right place—and that’s not on Bruce Banner.

 

~~~~~

 

It’s the work of minutes for Tony to suit up and fly to Central Park. There are still people streaming out, ushered by SHIELD agents in SWAT gear and suits. Tony spots a tree crashing down and alters his course.

 

Hulk is thrashing about half-heartedly, roaring his displeasure, but not causing much damage, other than the occasional downed tree.

 

“Hey, Big Man,” Tony says. “You okay?”

 

Hulk snarls, baring his teeth, but he doesn’t make any move to harm Tony.

 

“Yeah, I know, that was a bad deal,” Tony says as though in reply. “But you did good, saving Bruce’s life.”

 

Hulk’s snarl turns into something that might almost be a smirk. “Stupid men.”

 

“Definitely stupid,” Tony agrees cheerfully. “And you did a great job protecting the clerk, too. You saved her life, and I’m sure she’s very grateful.”

 

Hulk’s brow furrows, and he doesn’t seem to know what to do with that. Tony suspects that Hulk is so used to being feared that he’s automatically disposed to like anybody who isn’t afraid.

 

Take Tony, for example; he’s definitely the Hulk’s favorite.

 

“So, what do you say?” Tony asks. “Can Bruce come out and play? I think you’ve smashed everything worth smashing today.”

 

Hulk grunts, and then begins to shrink, giving way to Bruce’s compact form. Tony touches down next to him and kneels in the grass, flipping up his face plate.

 

Bruce stays sprawled out for a moment, his chest and feet bare and his khakis in tatters, and then he groans, curling up on his side with his hands over his face.

 

“Relax,” Tony says. “You didn’t kill anybody.”

 

“The robbers—”

 

“According to Coulson, they’re injured, but they’ll survive. And _you_ saved that cashier’s life.”

 

Bruce uncurls a bit at that news. “Melissa? She’s okay?”

 

“That’s what Coulson said.” Tony offers him a hand up. “Come on. I know you hate it, but I’ll give you a ride back to the Tower. It’s a short trip. You can talk to Coulson from there.”

 

Tony could have mentioned that there were SHIELD agents all over the park who could give Bruce a ride back to the Tower, but he doesn’t want to let Bruce out of his sight right now. He knows how much Bruce hates unanticipated transformations and losing control, even if it had been unavoidable. He wants to keep Bruce with him until he’s sure Bruce is going to be okay.

 

Bruce sighs. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

 

Tony doesn’t make it a habit of flying with anyone. He’s done it a few times, but usually only in an emergency; he thinks this situation counts under the circumstances.

 

Then again, Tony doesn’t have the same concerns about flying with Bruce, since dropping him isn’t going to actually cause harm.

 

Once they’ve landed on the roof of the Tower, and he’s got the suit off, Tony calls Coulson. “I’ve got Bruce with me,” he says as Bruce slumps on the sofa next to him. “He’s fine.”

 

“Let me talk to him,” Coulson replies.

 

Tony frowns. “Be nice.”

 

“I’m always nice when I’m not dealing with you,” Coulson says. “Put him on, Stark.”

 

Tony puts Coulson on speakerphone. “Remember, you do have the power to hang up.”

 

Bruce’s lips twitch upward. “I’ll be fine, Tony.”

 

Coulson clears his throat. “I heard that.”

 

“You were supposed to,” Tony replies and goes to the bar to pour a couple of drinks.

 

“You did an excellent job under very trying circumstances,” Coulson says. “Miss Vahdat wanted you to know that you saved her life.”

 

Bruce hesitates. “I didn’t scare her?”

 

“She said you took a bullet for her,” Coulson replies. “Which is what the report will indicate. You maintained control until you were shot, and there were no casualties, even though you had extreme provocation.”

 

Bruce blinks. “Ah—thank you?”

 

“We can have a full debriefing at a later date,” Coulson says. “And I believe it would be wise for you to visit Miss Vahdat in the hospital, but it can wait until tomorrow. Have a good afternoon, Dr. Banner.”

 

“You too,” Bruce says faintly.

 

Tony hands him his drink. “Not what you expected?”

 

“No.” Bruce’s hands are shaking a little bit, and he puts the glass down. “That’s not—no.”

 

“Why?” Tony asks bluntly. “No one would have blamed you for killing the robbers, not when they shot you first.”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “That’s just it, Tony. People—people _blame_ me. That’s just what happens.”

 

“Not anymore.” Tony puts his own glass aside and grabs Bruce’s hands. “Listen to me: this wasn’t your fault. You did good.”

 

Bruce grips Tony’s hands tightly, and then he leans forward, resting his forehead against Tony’s shoulder. Tony wraps an arm around Bruce’s bare shoulders. “I for one, am really grateful to the Other Guy,” Tony says softly, brushing his lips against the side of Bruce’s head. “Without him, you would have been dead.”

 

Bruce lets out a shaky breath and raises his head to meet Tony’s eyes. “You might be right.”

 

“I’m always right,” Tony asserts, and swallows Bruce’s response with a kiss, tangling a hand in Bruce’s hair, more thankful than he can say.


End file.
